She had also sent word to Monty of her plans. He would arrive soon, she was sure. Wafting in on a cloud of scent and dressed as Lord Plunge.
“If you’re not risking life and limb, you are reading, and now you are combining the two,” Aggie muttered, fixing the veil over Mary’s face.
“It’s called broadening the mind.”
“Mine is just broad enough, thank you.”
“Well, you sit your aged bones down somewhere, and I shall wander until my contact arrives,” Mary said to her maid.
“No one knows who you are at least in that veil.”
“Exactly, so I may look at whatever I choose.”
Aggie wandered away mumbling.
Mary browsed and kept an eye on the door. When Francine walked in, she didn’t make her way toward her immediately. The girl saw her and moved in her direction.
“Good day,” Mary said when Francine stopped beside her.
“I have a pistol in my pocket, I will shoot if you say or do anything to alert anyone.”
Mary looked down at the hand the girl had tucked in her pocket and saw the outline of what looked like the barrel of a gun.
“Outside now, but we take the rear exit.”
Looking for Aggie, Mary saw she was talking to someone and not aware of what was going on with Mary. Doing as Francine said, because she had no wish for anyone to get hurt should she pull out her own pistol, she made for the exit.
“Turn right and keep walking.”
She did as she was told.
“See that carriage? You are getting in there.”
The door opened as Mary arrived, and she climbed inside.
“Well now, this is cozy,” Monty said. He sat with a gun pointed at him by a sharp-faced man.
“You may remove the disguise, Miss Blake,” the man said.
“Mr. Moulin!” Mary gasped when she had taken off her hat and veil.
The man tilted his head, but his smile was nothing like the pleasant one he’d worn at social events.
“You noblemen are easy to fool.” he smirked.
“You are exceedingly good at acting too,” Mary said to Francine, who was now seated across from her also. The woman looked smug.
“They are also cold-blooded murderers, dear,” Monty said. “Try to remember that.”
“We did what we had to do,” Moulin said.
“It was you who killed and mutilated those women, wasn’t it?” Mary asked when the realization hit her. Monty placed his hand over hers. He was always calm in tense situations.
“It had to be done.” Moulin shrugged, as if murdering and scarring women meant nothing.
“Murder is never something that has to be done!”
“Stay calm, Mary,” Monty said softly.
